


stolen memories (treasures i lost)

by bushlaboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - No Island, Coma, Established Relationship, F/M, Kid Fic, Medical Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/pseuds/bushlaboo
Summary: Lexi AU Idea: Oliver has finally woken up after a five year coma due to an attempted murder leaving him nearly dead. Felicity, his girlfriend from before, has no idea how to break it to him that he has twin four year old daughters she didn’t know she was pregnant with when he was attacked.





	stolen memories (treasures i lost)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexiaBlackbriar13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/gifts).



> This is ALL Lexi's fault. No beta, so I apologize for any and all typos.

**Day 1**

_“Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”_

"Felicity!" Thea's voice boomed excitedly through her cell. "He's awake!" There was a wild giggle and the joyful tone made it easy for her to picture the wide smile spread across the younger woman's elfin face. "Oliver is awake." Felicity’s breath caught at the first proclamation and her hand slammed against her rapidly beating heart when Thea said the words she'd been waiting five years to hear. Oliver, _her_ Oliver, had regained consciousness. She'd hoped for so long, waited fruitlessly or so it seemed on her loneliest days for this moment, making the news almost impossible to believe.

The elation Felicity felt made her heart want to burst, but her mind – which moved too fast for its own good most of the time – had stalled, unable to process what Oliver coming out of his coma meant. For him, for her, for his family and most importantly for the two little girls who he hadn't had the chance to know about when an assassin's bullet robbed them all of his presence for five years.

 

* * *

 

**Day 5**

_Meant to say I hadn't notice. We're totally blaming autocorrect for that one Oliver. Deal?_

The world around him still seemed hazy, as if it wasn't in focus. Or maybe he wasn't. Though he'd regained consciousness five days ago, it felt like less to Oliver. The first 48 hours were a smear of images that faded like a dream when he tried to focus on the sensation of awakening from his long sleep. None of those early impressions felt real to him. Even the bite of IV, a constant presence Oliver was still adjusting to, hadn't seemed real until the nurses prevented him from yanking it out of his arm on day three.

His mind was sluggish. His body ridiculously weak, but not atrophied because his mother insisted and his family could afford to have a therapist come in every day to work his muscles for him. The world around him was too bright, too fast and entirely different from the one he'd known. 

Thea, his stubborn baby sister who'd been bemoaning her last year of high school, was nearly finished with a college degree - one she worked toward while running her own boutique store. She joked about being a walking advertisement for Queen Bee and when he thought about it, Oliver conceded that the clothing and accessories she wore were stylish. Though the sophisticated adult look that was her trademark now was vastly different than the teenager he known.

His mother was still Moira Queen, regal and timeless, but she was stiffer now. More aloof in interactions with anyone who weren’t her children or her new husband, Walter Steele. And what a bitter sting that was … waking up to the news that he survived and his father hadn’t. His mom hadn’t been able to speak of it, instead she and Thea sat pale while Walter explained that Robert had been the assassin’s - a deranged ex-employee who hadn’t liked having his seismic technology project shutdown - target and Oliver had been caught in the crossfire. In the wake of the tragedy Walter had stepped into the role of CEO as his mother completely shrunk into herself those first few weeks, before concentrating on nothing but his care for the next six months. No one said what pulled her from his hospital room and back into the world, but Oliver was grateful for whatever it was because it had given Thea their mother back. Three years into “his condition” as Moira referred to it, she married Walter, before taking up his role at Queen Consolidated as VP. His father’s oldest friend and wife worked in tandem to not just maintain, but grow the legacy of a man they both still loved. It was a gorgeous sentiment and a profound hurt rolled into one.

Not much had changed with his best friend Tommy Merlyn. He was a bit more serious now, not to mentioned married and gainfully employed – something he’d still been trying to avoid as Oliver had begrudgingly started working at QC. Tommy was still quick to smile though and was always ready to ease the tension in the room with a self-deprecating remark.

It was Felicity. _His Felicity_ , who'd sailed in and out so quickly, looking so beautiful and nervous, reaching out to touch him but stopping herself each time that was the change most difficult for him to accept. Oliver hated that. Hated her hesitancy, her inability to meet his gaze, and the way she bit her tongue to bring her words to an abrupt end. He wanted her more than anything and tears stung his eyes every time she left promising to be back soon because it felt like she hadn't been in the room with him. Not really. And he wanted that. He wanted to see his brilliant, babbling Felicity – to touch her – and he hated the idea that the years stolen from him had taken her from him.

Maybe that's why it took him so long to notice the splashes of colors that decorated the wall in front of his hospital bed. There was too much to take in and he was so focused on his condition and the next steps so he could combat the distance he felt between himself and Felicity that he'd looked, but hadn't _seen_. The artwork was simple, thick swirls of color with no rhyme or reason. One in particular -- a mishmash of overlapping little hand prints -- finally made the display click into place. A child's artwork.

Why his mother would pick or allow such a thing mystified Oliver and he spent an hour carefully studying the images as he waited for Thea's afternoon visit. His sister entered his room as she nearly always had as kid, with a bounce in her step and smile on her fine-boned face. Thea made sure to hug him, careful of his IV, before ridding herself of her coat and purse. She talked from the moment she appeared in his doorway, filling him in on her day, making it impossible for him to get a word in for the first ten minutes.

"So brother mine," Thea said, the signal that her whirlwind was about to wind down, "how's your day been?" Instead of answering Oliver asked his own question with a nod towards the artwork. " ** _FINALLY!_** " she squealed, clapping her hands. "I wanted to tell you right away, but mom insisted that we didn't overwhelm you and Felicity -- well she is overwhelmed so I don't blame her for letting mom make that decision, so don't be mad at her Ollie."

"Mad?" he asked. His sister's ramble, something he was certain she'd picked up from Felicity (it was contagious after all), had only befuddled him more. "About what?"

Thea's green eyes widened comically and she sputtered as she tried to find her words. After a few failed attempts she pushed herself up out of the chair she'd been perched in and dove for a picture frame that sat way down along the window ledge. "This," she squeaked, thrusting the photograph at him. 

Three similar faces smiled out at him. Felicity was in the center, her golden curls untamed and glistening in the sunlight, with two sets of little arms wrapped around her neck. In the faces of girls with her he saw Thea's eyes, Felicity's nose, his mother's chin and his own dimple. "Thea," Oliver croaked not certain he could believe what the picture was telling him.

Her hand squeezed his wrist as tears leaked down her cheeks. "Livvie - Olivia, and Ada Queen. _Your_ ,” her voice shook with emotion, “little girls.”

 

* * *

 

**Day 8**

_“You know you don’t have to bribe me with coffee. I’m pretty sure being Oliver Queen’s personal internet researcher comes in the job description of any IT staff here at QC.”_

_“But you’re not just anyone, Felicity.”_

He was meeting his daughters – DAUGHTERS, as in **plural** , as in he had two of them – today. Oliver had spent the night struggling to sleep as anticipation and nerves built inside him. He tried using the breathing technique his physical therapist, John Diggle, showed him after freaking out on the man the day after learning about his girls. Thea had called their mother after dropping the kid bomb and seeing his panic, his mother had kept Felicity from visiting. At the time he appreciated the decision as his mind had been besieged with questions, questions like: how (well that he knew obviously, but for as plentiful and vigorous as their physical relationship had been Oliver was certain they’d always been careful with contraception), when did Felicity find out, had the pregnancy been difficult, how long had she been in labor, who’d graced the world first - Olivia or Ada, what were they like (he pictured them as mini-versions of their mother), and most daunting of all, what did they know of him?

A few things he ended up asking his mother, needing to know – Livvie was first and named after him, Ada followed four and half minutes later declaring herself with a discontented wail when she made her appearance – though he held on to most of them because he wanted Felicity to be one to tell him. His mother had tried to reschedule Felicity’s quarterly report meeting with the board, as head of R&D her presence was required, the following morning but hadn’t been able to; so Oliver waited, not so patiently as Diggle got to experience until lunchtime to finally see her.

Oliver wasn’t certain if the dark plum business dress was her suit of armor against the board or him, but it did little to prevent the guilt she wore on her face. She was saying, “I’m sorry,” as he said just her name, “ _Fe·lic·i·ty_ ,” as he way of expressing his own regret for circumstances that were far beyond their control. Her face crumpled as she threw herself at him and finally touched him, Her sobs wetting his neck he struggled to wrap his exhausted arms around her. Oliver made shushing and soothing sounds, kissing the top of her head. It felt like Felicity was trying to curl herself into him, to become one with him and he had actively despised the material between them, not that his body would allow him to do anything more than hold her. But the idea of feeling Felicity’s whole length against him again, skin on skin. Well it was a heady thought and he managed to lose himself momentarily while she pulled herself together.

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck, rubbing her cheek against his scruff like she used to do on lazy morning days in bed together.

“God, I love you,” he sighed attempting to pull her closer.

For the next half hour they just held each other before Felicity started speaking, explaining first why she held herself back – she didn’t know how to act around him without telling him the whole truth – and apologizing for it. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured her, even though his biggest fear; that she had moved on, had yet to be addressed. She could still love him, still be a mother to his children and involved with his family and company, and have found someone else to share her life with. No one, not even his mother or sister would have faulted her for it. But as she Felicity filled in the pieces of their five years apart, answering questions he didn’t even realize he had about her and their girls, he learned he had no competition for Felicity’s heart. Somehow it had remained steadfastly his after all that time.

Oliver could still feel the peace that brought him, though it wasn’t enough to settle him now, and certainly hadn’t prevented the fight between him and Felicity two days ago when she talked about bringing the girls to see him. He wasn’t strong yet, hell he couldn’t get through a day without napping (he needed one almost immediately after his session with Diggle) and holding his head up for a few hours was exhausting. How could he be father in this condition? Felicity’s dry, “You were their father when you were unconscious,” hadn’t helped. Technically yes, that was true, but he hadn’t known it. And knowing it now, Oliver not only felt the loss of those missed years with them, but guilt for not being there.

His girls had stories and pictures of their father, second hand knowledge. All he managed to give them was absence and in doing so he let his girls down. He'd failed them. He wanted to be able to give his girls something when they finally saw him, the real him, not the _Sleeping Beauty_ version of him they knew.

It would be an understatement of epic proportions to say Felicity hadn’t taken the idea of waiting well. Their happy reunion dissolved into a fight. One that Felicity ended, sort of, by declaring in her Loud Voice (which seemed to have gotten sterner with motherhood), “Your feelings aren’t ridiculous Oliver, but this decision right now is,” before storming out of his hospital room.

He had a parade of visitors that evening and the following day – his mother, sister, Tommy, Walter, even Diggle had given his two cents, before Donna Smoak (Oliver had no idea she was town) paid a call in all her sequin glory. She’d squeezed his cheeks and assured him he’d get his abs back in no time, before puttering around his room. Donna discarded old flower arrangements and cycled in new artwork as she told him about her little “Pistachio” and the most important thing any little girl or really any child needed from their parent. “It’s easy to say ‘I love you’ Oliver. They’re just words. Important words,” Donna conceded before he could protest, “but still saying them is easy. Showing them however, now that can be hard. You have to be there to show them hon,” the eldest Smoak said with a pat to his hand. “And after hearing Thea talk about what a great big brother you were-are,” she quickly corrected, “well I know what kind of daddy you want to be.”

“Felicity didn’t get to have that,” Donna said her innate perkiness slipping, reveling how sad that made her. “And I know that put her off the idea of a long-term relationship, but then you came along.” Her million-watt smile returned as she beamed at him from the foot of his bed. “You made it possible for my baby to dream about marriage and family, Oliver. I'll always adore you for that.”

She turned serious again; something Felicity from five years ago swore was impossible. “How this all happened, it’s not ideal. And I know it’s a lot for you to take in hon, but you have to show up now when it’s hardest. Not just because those gorgeous little nuggets need you, but because Felicity does to. She needs her daughters to have a father whose there for them when he has the choice to be.”

Donna let her words hang as she straightened his blanket, tucking him in similarly to the way his mother or Raisa had when he was boy. “I’m gonna leave you with this last thought before I go talk some sense into my daughter. What did you want more of with your own father?” she asked with a knowing look before she pecked a quick kiss on his forehead.

Time, had immediately sprung to mind, but Oliver left it unsaid. Donna knew the answer before she even asked the question. He wanted to give his girls everything. He’d only seen their pictures, watched videos of them on his sister’s phone, and heard stories about them but Livvie and Ada already had his whole heart. As afraid as he was of not being enough for them, the thought of not seeing them with his own eyes the second he could hurt more than his fear.

He told Felicity as much when she’d come to visit him yesterday. Oliver had been ready cry stupidity and beg for forgiveness, but instead only had to promise that when it came to their girls, they would always talk things out - no matter how difficult - and make the decision together. It was an easy vow to make.

Still all that certainty, all that want for his children hadn’t stopped his nerves from raging. Since Felicity's call last night to tell him how her talk with the girls went, Oliver had felt nothing but anxious. The morning couldn’t come soon enough and yet, it was approaching too fast. He was ready, but wasn’t. His stomach rolled, his minded race, his heart kept catching and all he wanted were his girls – all three of them, well five, if you counted his sister and mother. He wanted his family and desperately wanted to be what they needed.

Oliver was ready to figure out a way to jump out his bed and find his way to them on his own when Felicity finally appeared in the doorway, one of the girls – god they were twins how was he going to tell them apart? – was wrapped around her, a honey haired head resting on Felicity’s shoulder and looking at him shyly. Behind her was Thea, holding his other little girl. Her eyes were more curious as she studied him, as if she was trying to figure him out and it reminded Oliver so much of Felicity the first time they met that it brought a smile to his face.

The nugget, as Donna called them, in Felicity’s arms returned his grin with one of her own before turning to look at her mother and ask, “Daddy?”

“I told you, you’d make daddy smile Ada,” she answered. The four year-old giggled and clapped her hands before trying to scurry out of her mother’s arms. “Woah there,” Felicity urged as Ada wiggled to escape. “What did mommy tell you?”

Livvie answered for her sister, drawing his attention back to her, “Gentle.”

Oliver caught Ada’s pout as she said, “Promise ‘ready.” He was worried as Felicity let her slide down and Ada sprinted over to him that she’d need his help to get up onto the bed, but his baby girl was climber and was in need of no assistance. Her knobby knees landed hard on his leg, but Oliver barely noticed the pain as she plopped herself down next to his hip. “Hi daddy,” she greeted her earlier reserve gone. 

Oliver choked out a watery, “Hello,” as Ada studied him much like Livvie had been.

“Where do I kiss?”

“What?” he asked through his startled laugh.

“Kiss daddy.” When he didn’t answer quick enough for her Ada said, “To make you better. Momma always kisses our ouchies.”

“Ah …”

“Daddy’s whole body needs to mend,” Felicity said as she stepped forward and ran a hand through their daughter’s hair. “And while I’m sure he’d love kisses all over why don’t we start with his hand,” she suggested wrapping her fingers around his and lifting it up for Ada to more easily reach.

Amiable to the suggestion Ada laid a smacking kiss high on his hand, near his wrist, and asked “Better?”

“Definitely getting there,” he replied as he squeezed Felicity’s hand in his.

“How about you get the other one?” Thea proposed bringing Livvie into the moment as she brought her over to the other side of his bed. His mother followed them into the room and settled into the spot at the end of his bed.

His oldest hadn’t given up her perch in his sister’s arms and her shyness had yet to fade away. Livvie shook her head and in what he was certain she thought was a whisper told Thea, “They didn’t work before.”

Oliver’s heart clenched and he felt Felicity’s hand quiver beneath his own. All his earlier misgivings stormed back, but Thea handled the situation before he had the chance to spiral. “How many kisses did you and Ada have to give Roy to make him better?”

“‘Ousands,” Livvie replied and Oliver made a mental note to ask who Roy was later.

“That’s right,” Thea said clearly pleased by the answer. “Remember, what we learned. Some ouchies take more kisses to get better. Your daddy needed a lot just to wake up and he’ll need a whole bunch more to keep getting better. So I think you better get started Little Miss,” his sister instructed.

Livvie took a moment to look at her aunt before glancing to her grandmother who graced her with a reassuring smile and nod. With that Livvie was twisting and bending in a way Oliver didn’t even know the human body could so she could plant a kiss on his shoulder, and proceeded to work her way down his arm. Not to be left out Ada took to kissing up his other arm as Felicity lifted her so that he wouldn’t bear her full weight. No one, not their aunt, grandmother or mother, could convince the girls to stop kissing him - not that Oliver minded their ministrations - until they were happy with the number of kisses they’d given him.

In fact, Oliver would have been content to let the twins continue the whole day, but the feel of them tucked on either side of him, for cuddle time (a favorite pastime of Felicity’s according to Livvie) was something he would have hated to miss out on.


End file.
